A/N: First bleach fic YAY! Rated T for now, but who knows. Possibly a yaoi, not sure yet.
It had been three months since Aizen's defeat, and life was normal for everyone, except a certain orange haired young man. Tired brown eyes looked into the mirror. What was once bright orange hair had faded some, and his eyes seemed downcast. Running lithe fingers through messy hair, he let out a sigh. This was Ichigo Kurosaki. Nothing but a shadow of his former self...
Today was a day just like any other, the normal rude awakening of his father storming in with a kick aimed for him. He hadn't avoided it. The goat faced man frowned. "What is up with you lately? This isn't like you at all."
Ichigo knew what he was going to say, so he stopped him before he could even start. "I know. Just leave me alone." Walking downstairs he grabbed the toast on the table, completely ignoring Karin and Yuzu's greetings and walking out the door. The routine was always the same. Orihime and Keigo would join him on the walk, occasionally joined by Chad and possibly Uryu. They'd talk about Orihime's newest recipe, or what they were planning after school, and Ichigo only nodded and ignored them.
Classes were the same. Just nodding and agreeing with whatever was said in hopes to end the conversation sooner. He'd stare blankly at the board earning a loud thud of a book on his desk and the teacher admonishing him for ignoring her.
Lunch was just as boring. He'd grab his lunch and head to the roof and stare off into space, completely ignoring his meal. It felt like he was living someone else's life. Some random boring everyday life. His friends began to notice his behavior and often tried to cheer him up, but it always ended in failure.
They grew up as normal people. Sure, they gained powers and helped him, but even then, they were able to sink back into a normal life. They would never know his pain. He himself didn't even know his pain. For as long as he could remember, he'd wished he were normal. Now that his wish came true, he felt empty inside. Nothing felt real anymore.
He sighed as the bell rang and took one last look at his half-eaten lunch before tossing it into the garbage and heading back to class. As the final bell rang, he grabbed his bag and left without saying a word.
Even the walk home made him hurt. Everyday he would walk by that one pole and talk to the little girl, but she was no longer there. No, she was, but he could no longer see her. He'd made it a habit to visit her everyday so she wouldn't be lonely, and even brought her flowers. Now he was no longer able to see her. Sighing, he walked to the park and sat in the corner out of everyone's view.
He hated the look he got from them. That look of pity, like they knew his pain, but he knew they could never comprehend it. The whole world could burn away and he wouldn't care a bit. Ironic how he'd once fought so hard for this world, and now he no longer had a desire to live in it.
Taking out a small pocket knife, he brought the blade close to examine it. Sharp. Just like Zangetsu. A sad smile crossed his face as he remembered the fights. He began to realize that he only truly felt alive when he fought, but those days were over. Knife in-hand, he made a quick cut on his right arm. That warm blood. Soon there was another small cut, and he found himself smiling as he remembered the battle with Kenpachi.
This had become his new outlet. A way he could actually feel, and remember. He made it a point to wear a jacket now, and often said he just wanted to try a new style. In reality, it was to hide the small cuts he made on a daily basis. He felt much better, and began to talk a little more. Hell, he even joined in his friend's conversations, even if only a little. A few weeks had come by and like all good things, come to an end.
He had been taking a shower and letting the hot water run over his body, soothing tense muscles. Lathering his hair with the strawberry shampoo, he rinsed it out and turned the water off. He could hear Yuzu calling from the kitchen, and he knew it was dinner time. Drying off and getting into clean clothes, he put on his favorite jacket and headed downstairs.
Getting his bowl of stew, Ichigo sat at the end of the table. Just an ordinary meal, Yuku talking about wanting dance lessons, and Karin telling them about her soccer game. Even Isshin joined in. When Ichigo finished, he got up and put the bowl in the sink and began to head upstairs.
He was caught by the arm and turned to see a rather annoyed Isshin. "What do you want?" He grumbled and Isshin had just about had it.
"I want to know why the hell you've been so damn withdrawn lately!"
Ichigo scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It's none of your damn business."
Before he could turn to leave, Isshin pulled him back. "That's where you're wrong, Ichigo! It IS my business. Even the girls are concerned!" Ichigo gave him a serious glare before pulling away. Just as he did, Isshin grabbed tighter and the jacket ripped. He tensed. Isshin grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. "Alright, start talking! I know this wasn't some accident."
He knew what the man was referring to, and it only angered him. "I fell."
"Bullshit! You don't just fall and get cuts like this!" Isshin knew what had happened just by looking at the cuts, but that didn't stop him from yelling. Letting go, he leaned close. "Just go to your damn room. Don't you dare expose the girls to such destructive behavior!" he hissed before pushing him up the stairs.
Ichigo went back to his room and slammed the door. Again, people just never seem to get the hint that he wants to be left alone. The rest of the night was uneventful, and this came as a surprise to him. Shutting his lights off, he flopped onto his bed and dozed off. Why couldn't they all just leave him alone? Was it really that much to ask? Even the lack of a mental reply to this depressed him. That hollow used to always mock him in his thoughts, but now he was just alone. He never thought that he would actually miss the albino hollow that had haunted him for so long.
Again, another ordinary morning. His father coming in with a kick to his side and frowning. This time he held a box. Ichigo was too surprised by the presence of the box to react when Isshin grabbed his right arm. "Looks like they aren't too deep." He muttered. There were quite a few, so he ended up wrapping a bandage all the way up his arm. "Why?"
"Why what? I told you, I fell! Now just drop it!" Ichigo said in a rather venomous tone. Yanking his arm away, he headed downstairs to the table. He was approached by his sisters who seemed rather concerned.
It was Yuzu who spoke first. "Ichi? Why are you all bandaged up? Did you get hurt?"
He could feel his father's eyes boring into his back. "Ah, it's nothing really. Just some scratches."
Karin interjected immediately. "And how did you get those scratches?" she said the last word with a stern voice.
Ichigo scratched at the back of his head as he wracked his mind for some clever excuse. Karin was always perceptive, so it had to be a good one. "I fell in metals class and someone left their tools out and it sliced my arm some. It's alright, really." He was thankful when she dropped it. After eating the scrambled eggs Yuzu made, he got up and headed out. "Later Yuzu, Karin!" Grabbing a different jacket on the way out, he headed to school.
He was rather early, as he didn't want to be around Isshin any more than he really needed to be. The day proceeded as usual. During third period however, he was called to the office. He heard the rest of the class snickering and guessing what kind of trouble he got himself into as he left.
Near the office, a woman greeted him. She was about in her thirties, and had long hair up in a bun. Oval glasses sat on the bridge of her nose as she smiled. "Mr. Kurosaki, correct?"
Ichigo nodded and followed her into a room he hadn't seen before. It was very plain, save for the few colorful drawing hanging on the walls, most likely drawn by the students. He sat down and glared at the woman. "And might I ask why I am here?" The irritation in his voice was evident.
"I'm Kiran Shidosa. Ms. Shidosa to you." She waited until the irritated teen nodded and motioned for her to go on. "So I hear you've been engaging in some rather risky behavior recently, so it is my job to help you through this. Mind tel-"
Before she could continue, Ichigo stopped her. "And what kind of risky behavior might that be?" He knew this was his old man's idea. It had to be. No one else knew.
She sighed. "You know exactly what I am talking about. Perhaps you could remove your jacket."
Doing as he was told, Ichigo put the jacket to the side. "You mean this cut I got in metals class?"
"What is troubling you so much that you must resort to hurting yourself?" she asked as if he hadn't said a word.
Ichigo was angered by the accusation. "Fine. I hurt myself. So what? It's not like I'm trying to kill myself."
Ms. Shidosa shook her head. "No, maybe not, but if the problem isn't addressed properly, then it can easily escalate to something worst. I'm here to help you with this."
He rolled his eyes. "Help? You actually think you can help me? Don't make me laugh. This isn't accidental. I know exactly what I am doing, so you can just fuck off."
She appeared to let out a sigh before taking out a clipboard. "It's precisely because it wasn't an accident that makes it a problem. If you would only let me in, let my try to help you. We can fix this mess. You just need to help me understand."
This time, he let out a maniacal cackle. "Help you understand? Has the old man finally lost it?" after a few more fits of laughter, he continued. "I no longer hear the voices in my head. The dead people I used to see are gone. I lost the power to slay incredible monsters." he couldn't help but laugh a little. Therapy? Seriously? A NORMAL HUMAN therapist? Yeah, that'll work.
The response he got was entirely expected. "This is serious! You're father's worried about you, so try taking it a bit more seriously!"
He could tell she was angry now. "Well, if you don't believe in spirits, ghosts and the like, there isn't a thing you can do to help me. Do us all a favor and stop trying."
"I cannot help you if you aren't willing to let me, you know." was her last-ditch attempt.
Ichigo got serious suddenly. "Who even said I WANTED help? I don't." He got up and shrugged his jacket back on before giving her one last glace. "If this is all you wanted, then I believe I'm done here." He didn't even have to look back to see the look of annoyance on her face. As he walked out, he swore he heard something along the lines of 'prick' and chuckled.
He didn't even bother heading back to class. His mind was a laughing mess, and he needed time to think, but as he stepped out of the building he was met with an expecting look from his father. Great. Just great. "I'm done. I'll be a good little boy now, so leave me alone." He didn't make it very far before Isshin grabbed him by the arm, resulting in a hiss from the teen. "Tch, are you TRYING to rip my arm open?!"
"You need to let it go. This isn't the way to solve any of your problems."
The calm demeanor surprised the teen, but he shrugged and started to walk off while massaging his sore arm. Pain. Such a familiar feeling...